


The First Kiss

by sherlock221Bismymuse



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Mycroft Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 06:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18255683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlock221Bismymuse/pseuds/sherlock221Bismymuse
Summary: Sherlock is 20. Mycroft is 27.Nothing will ever be the same again.





	1. Chapter 1

Mycroft looked away awkwardly, his heart hammering, his face flushed, his eyes closed, his entire body bearing a burden of guilt and shame and self –loathing.

They had just broken apart after a kiss.

.

.

Sherlock had finally found the courage to take the plunge.

_This was going to change everything. For ever._

At least he hoped so.

He had been in love with his perfect brilliant big brother for _so long_ that he could not say when it began.

It had always been. It would always be.

It was his reality.

His feeling of connection with Mycroft was like breathing. Like being.

There was no other way he knew.

The way the sun rose every morning, his heart renewed its feelings every day.

And then his entire universe was plunged into darkness when Mycroft had left for college.

Left home.

Left him.

It was in those dark years that he had finally understood what that feeling was and what it meant.

It was not the kind of feeling he had for his parents. It was not the kind of feeling he had for anyone else in this world.

The swoop in his lower stomach whenever he thought of Mycroft. The hypnotized feeling he got when he looked into his eyes. The desire to have those elegant long pale fingers touch him. The craving to have his hands through his hair. To see him without his shirt. To feel his cool skin. To make him smile. To hold him close. To want him to be happy.

To hear him say he belonged to Sherlock. Only to Sherlock.

Not brother mine. Just mine. Mine.

He had struggled with it. He had wondered if there was something wrong with him. He had tried to stop himself from remembering or from yearning or from thinking of him but he had been unable to. So he had shown more patience than he had ever dreamed he was capable of. He had waited and planned and, as soon as he could, he had followed him to London.

But he could not recognize this man.

Elegant and slim with no traces of his soft cuddly Mycie who had been his pillow and his comfort blanket all in one. Sophisticated and serious with no hint of the wry sense of humour that used to have him in splits. A cold distant young man who kept him at arm’s length when they had barely been able to stop holding hands earlier.

This was a stranger whose marshmallow heart seemed to have been replaced with a core of ice and who said baffling things about caring not being an advantage.

 _Really?!_ All that he had _ever_ known from Mycroft, his _entire_ life, was caring!

Sherlock had felt helpless. Rudderless. Incomplete.

He was lost in a strange land without a map. The busy crowded city made his lonely young heart ache and his sensitive brain was constantly buzzing like a swarm of bees who had lost their Queen. He had come to find his precious treasure and was left with a handful of dust.

Unable to find peace where he had expected, he had eventually strayed to drugs and then a week ago had almost died of an accidental overdose.

When Mycroft had found him and held him close, through all the agony and the despair, his soul had felt a deep, deep satisfaction at the contact. He was in his beloved’s arms, finally! Close enough to feel his heart beat next to his skin, his breath on his face as he whispered his name, frantically, yearningly, desperately.

The way he had said his name! As though he cared. As though he mattered.

 _Yes, this was where he belonged_ …..and finally his brain let go as he collapsed.

.

.

He never remembered the chest compressions and the oxygen and the intensive care.

All he could remember was Mycroft holding his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea:  
> What is all this sweet work worth, If thou kiss not me?

Today, waiting for Mycroft to come home, he had made up his mind.

He had seen the way Mycroft had cared for him after his overdose. He knew that the old love was still there, hidden by layers upon layers of duty and the grime of reality and growing up. He could see it in his eyes and feel it in his voice and sometimes when he thought Sherlock wasn’t paying attention, he could hear it in his thoughts.

The near death episode had made him braver and Mycroft more vulnerable.

He could not understand why Mycroft had put this distance between their hearts but he was convinced that he just needed to remind him. To show him. To reveal what was hidden in plain sight.

To give that old true love a new name.

So when Mycroft had come home that evening and asked him the usual _How was your day? Have you eaten? Are you feeling well? Anything I can do for you?_ Sherlock had promptly said Y _es, you can._

“What is it?” Mycroft had asked with a fond smile, sitting next to him on the sofa, closer than he had ever sat in the last few years.

“Kiss me.” Sherlock had said boldly, hiding the fear behind his bravado, as always.

Mycroft had moved away as though scalded. “Sherlock!”

“You said _anything_.” Sherlock reminded him.

“But…..why Sherlock?!”

“Because I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“I- love- you- too- brother- mine.” Mycroft said automatically, like a safe word, hiding the cold fingers of terror clutching at his heart.

Sherlock shook his head. “No Mycroft. I love you not like a brother mine. I love you like this.”

As he moved closer a part of his brain was waiting for Mycroft to deflect him, stop him, move away and he was genuinely surprised when his hands reached and were allowed to touch and then hold Mycroft’s face and then….and then he kissed him.

A gentle kiss. Just pressure really. But the touch of his lips made Sherlock’s heart sing. The rest of the world melted away. It was not as dramatic as he had imagined but it was exactly as life changing as he had hoped. He parted his lips and deepened the kiss. He could smell him and taste him and breathe him......And oh!! Mycroft was kissing him back!! Gently and almost helplessly….fearfully.....before he pulled away.

But Sherlock knew that there was no going back from this. At least not for him.

He looked at Mycroft as he sat there, eyes closed, so beautiful, so fragile, trembling in the circle of his arms.

“That was just the first kiss My.” Sherlock said softly. “Please….please tell me there will be more.”

Mycroft had pulled his arms off, misery and guilt written all over his face. He got up and strode away to stand by the window looking outside with unseeing eyes.

Sherlock followed him and held him from behind, with his arms curled gently around his waist and his forehead resting again his shoulders.

“What is it My?” He whispered. “What happened?”

“I am ashamed Sherlock. I am so _pathetic_ that I could not even get myself to resist….Even now….I cannot push you away…….You…this …it is all my fault…..”

Sherlock turned him slowly till they were facing each other and looked at him so tenderly that Mycroft thought he was going to cry.

“Fault? It is no one’s _fault_ Mycie. It is love. Pure and simple.” Sherlock told him with a soft smile as he ran his finger down his cheek and trailed it down his throat.

“No Sherlock! This is not pure! It is _definitely_ not simple and…..no, this is _not_ our first kiss.” Mycroft said in a shaking voice.

“No?” Sherlock frowned, trying to recall.

“You won’t remember it.” Mycroft said, shaking his head.

“Tell me My. Please. I want to know.”

“It was the day you were born.” Mycroft smiled sadly and wiped his eyes. “You were the funniest thing I had ever seen. You were all pink and wrinkled and good heavens-- the noise you made! I had never heard anything that loud in our house, ever! I was so worried that people would be bothered by that and be angry with you. So when they had cleaned you up and kept you in the cradle I sat there and kept a watch on you. You slept for two hours and then you started to wake up. I was peeping over the edge and waiting as you fidgeted and yawned. Finally you opened your eyes……and the instant you looked at me I felt like I was drowning. I felt something inside me which I had never felt before. I didn’t even recognize what it was till much later.”

Mycroft’s voice had dropped to a whisper now. To Sherlock’s ears it sounded more like a divine revelation than a confessional.

“I fell in love with you Sherlock. I…..was overwhelmed by these strange desires. I had no idea where they came from. I wanted to eat you up and keep you inside me. I wanted to be worn by you like a coat. I wanted to become a river and flow with you. It felt as though my soul recognized yours and I could have followed you to the ends of the earth and beyond. And I picked you up….and kissed you on your lips. Your perfect…. _perfect_ tiny lips. Soft as a cloud. Delicate as a dewdrop. My beautiful baby brother. _That_ was our first kiss.”

Sherlock sat there looking at Mycroft’s face, almost radiant with joy as he recounted this memory, and he felt the tears roll down his own cheeks.

Mycroft was sitting with his head in his hands now and almost pulling his hair out in despair.

“And then I kissed you so many, many more times after that. A thousand times. Maybe more. And when you grew older you would kiss me back. I loved you more and more every day. It was the only reality I knew. As inevitable as breathing. As impossible to resist as gravity. Till you were five and we were at a family gathering and some cousins saw us kissing and mocked us and sniggered and I realized like a dagger to my heart just how terrible and wrong it was…… and I stopped you and I stopped myself from doing it. I did this to you Sherlock. I _tainted_ you. I am sorry. I am so sorry……….

Mycroft paused and spoke as though to himself. “But I could not stop myself from loving you and as you grew older I just loved you more. You were more radiant than the moon and more beautiful than an angel and there were moments when all I could see was you and all I ever wanted was you. And I wanted you all to myself. In the entire world you were the only one whose mind came close to understanding mine. You loved me in such an innocent way and you trusted me so completely while I …..I was a horrible person. I was not worthy. It frightened me and shamed me that my love had spilled over from the bounds of brotherhood…..it was going to poison you…poison us…..and I knew that I had to protect you from me……..”

He stopped speaking and took a deep shuddering breath.  

“One day when you were 12 and you had come to me at night because you were frightened by the noises in your head, you fell asleep still holding me and I was barely able to control myself Sherlock. Your beautiful eyelashes, your sweet lips……I just wanted to kiss you. I wanted you to never leave my side. I wanted to never let you go……….and I was disgusted by my own feelings. They were bubbling out of me like lava. They were going to burn you to ashes.  I was turning into a monster Sherlock. And I needed to protect you. At any cost. You deserved more. You deserved better. This is why I stayed away………why I kept you away. I am sorry Sherlock! I am so, so sorry! I should have been stronger. I should have been better.”

He sighed and rubbed his own face in despair and then looked right into Sherlock’s eyes.

“And last week, when I thought you were going to die….I kissed you again….because I could not have lived with myself if I had let you go without telling you somehow…. _anyhow_ ……. that I truly loved you….love you….. Not that I would have lasted even a day without you if you had really died…..but I am still a monster Sherlock. I can never forgive myself.”

Sherlock was sitting and listening to all this, his entire being almost glowing with the knowledge of this infinite love that belonged to him. It was his!! Had always been!!!

Mycroft spoke again, sounding more in control, his voice stronger. “Please don’t hate me for this Sherlock but….….we cannot do this ever again. You deserve better. Look at you!! Still so beautiful….so brilliant……..my angel…...……And this? This is….this is just….”

“Perfect.” Sherlock interrupted, his heart almost singing with joy, barely able to believe that this was possible.

_Mycroft loved him!! Mycroft loved him too!! Mycroft loved him back!!!_

“This? This is just perfect My. Please believe me! You have wasted 20 years between that first kiss and this one, but I am not going to waste even 20 seconds more!! I am not a helpless baby Mycroft. And those first kisses of yours? They were never tainted. How could they be? They were in fact the purest love possible. Like a god bestowing kisses on his devotee.”

He knelt down in front of Mycroft and forced him to meet his eyes. “But we are both older now and I want this new love between us. Not brother- mine. Just mine. _Mine_. With no other labels. Your lips are my temple and I will worship you with my kisses My. I want these new kisses. I want more. So much more My!! I want to _be_ with you. Always and forever.” And he touched his brother’s tear-stained cheeks.

As his big brother tried to look away, Sherlock reminded him. "We belong to each other Mycroft. You cannot keep us apart. This separation almost did kill me. You are mine and I am yours. Please _please_ keep me inside you like you wanted to! Let me wear you like my coat……flow with me…….follow me. Be mine. You know I am yours. I have always been. Please My. It is the same true love we have always had between us but it has evolved. It is as far from being monstrous as you can ever imagine!”

He came closer and whispered into Mycroft’s lips. “I want so many more first kisses My. A first kiss every morning and a first kiss every night and a first kiss every hour in between. For the rest of my life! I am yours in mind and soul already, so please please don’t reject my body. Please My—just kiss me once more and then let’s stop counting.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote is from 'From Love''s Philosophy' by Percy Bysshe Shelley.
> 
> This chapter turned into a divine mystic love kind of thing !! Hope you liked it :)


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